Refuse to Feel
by Bohemian Storm
Summary: During the days of the Death Eaters, one listens while a former classmate tries to reason with him. Reviews greatly appreciated.


Notes: I don't own the characters; the belong to JK Rowling. I do own the character who is telling the story. The lyrics used belong to Lifehouse.  
  
Dedicated to the very talented Gedia, whose fic 'Overwhelmed' inspired me to write this.  
  
Refuse to Feel  
  
  
He stands over me, menacing, dark and powerful. He reeks of power, his body gives off waves of it, washing over my body like the waves of the ocean. The ocean . . . I'll never see the ocean again. His eyes are black like the night sky, though no stars sparkle in their depths, they are as cold and lifeless as the expression staring down upon me. He has a wand in one hand, it trembles nervously, though it still scares me. It's pointed at my heart, poised to kill me at any moment.  
  
My back is against the hard stone wall of an alley, I'm crouched in the dirt and grime, shaking with fear because of a man that I once knew so well. Does he remember me from school, I wonder. Does he remember that we used to be friends? I wonder if he even knows who he's killing. He used to be my best friend, my only ally against James Potter and his friends. They would torment us, make us feel useless . . . they were bullies. They hated us because we were different and look at where it led. He could never handle the stress of their taunts, his confidence is broken and beaten. It's shattered before me in those very eyes that I once knew so well.  
  
"Catch your breath," I whisper, watching his face. "Hit the wall. Scream out loud, as you start to crawl."  
  
No reaction from above, all he can hear are the orders of Voldemort being whispered in his ear. He was always so susceptible to suggestions, so eager to please whomever asked. He wanted acceptance, strived for it whenever he could, but he never achieved the acceptance that he craved. Not until he became a Death Eater.  
  
"Back in your cage, the only place where they will leave you alone. Because the weak will seek the weaker until they've broken them. Could you get it back again? Would it be the same?"  
  
I speak of my memories of us at Hogwarts, the times he would hide in the Slytherin dormitory and shake with anger. They would rip him to shreds, leave him without dignity and now he wants it back. He wants what he could never have in school.   
  
"Fulfilment to their lack of strength as your expense, left you with no defence, they tore it down," I whisper, praying that I can reach him. Will he hear me, will he remember all the times we spent trying to find a way to pay back Potter, Lupin and Black?   
  
I touch his hand gently. "I have felt the same as you."  
  
He shakes off my touch, still staring at me, expressionless. It's the lack of emotion on his pale face that frightens me more than the wand in his hand. He used to be so full of life, so eager to experience whatever he could and now . . . now he's locked away and I wonder if he will ever return. Is the man I once knew gone forever?"  
  
"Locked inside the only place where you feel sheltered, where you feel safe," I say gently, trying to reach him. "You lost yourself in your search to find something else to hide behind."  
  
We always used to joke about Potter and his friends. The Marauders as they liked to call themselves. One year we had actually convinced each other that they were jealous. They were jealous of our grades, of our intelligence. They picked on us because they wanted to be like us. They wished they were as smart and as kind, but they weren't. They never could be. They drove him to this and I pray to God that they'll pay for it.  
  
"The fearful always preyed upon your confidence," I murmur. "Did they see the consequence? They pushed you around."  
  
They pushed us both around, but he doesn't even seem like he remembers being in school. His black hair is hanging in his face, beads of sweat on his forehead, his lip pulled back into a sneer. My words anger him, it's as if he doesn't want to remember who I am. Will it make it harder for him to kill me if he remembers the friendship we shared? He's a Death Eater now, I don't think he cares but I try anyway. I swear I will reach him, I can't leave him like this, not without trying.  
  
"The arrogant build kingdoms made of the weaker ones, pushing them till they become just another crown," I whisper, standing slowly. He lets me stand, my back sliding up the dirty wall of the alley until I'm staring him in the face. "And I have felt the same as you," I tell him, watching his eyes for any change. "I have felt the same."  
  
His blinks, turns away. He doesn't want to look me in the eye anymore, he can't. It makes him feel guilty. Good, he should feel guilty. The Marauders should feel the weight of the world on their shoulders because they drove this kind man to this state, but he should feel guilty too. He could have walked away, he could have turned his back on Voldemort.   
  
I did.   
  
I laugh harshly and it surprises him. His eyes meet mine once more.  
  
"Refuse to feel anything at all," I spit out bitterly, "refuse to slip, refuse to fall. Can't be weak, can't stand still. You watch your back 'cause no one will."   
  
It's what he used to tell me. That was our motto while we were in school, we looked out for ourselves and no one else. Now he can't even look out for himself. He puts that responsibility in the hands of fellow Death Eaters and an evil wizard. Why not put your life in the mouth of a poisonous snake . . . it's basically the same thing. Voldemort will only keep him around so long before he kills him and it will be no one's fault but his own. Potter and his friends might had driven him to this point, but I always thought he was stronger than this. I always thought he would be great.  
  
"You don't know why they had to go this far. Traded your worth for these scars."  
  
My hand closes down over his and I hold tight. He's not going to shake me off again and if he kills me I will get these words said. If I have to die, then I have to die, but he doesn't. He can still go home.  
  
"Don't believe the lies that they have told to you. Not one word was true. You're all right," I whisper, leaning into him. His hair brushes my cheek, his breath on my throat. My best friend, my only friend. I want him back, do you hear me? I want him to come home and I want things like they were in school.  
  
"You're all right," I whisper again into his shoulder.   
  
I feel his arms come up around me and for a moment I think that he's returned. The lifeless eyes will brighten, they're sparkle again with a life that he's always dreamed of. He'll be what he once was, an intelligent man with a wonderful future ahead of him. Potter couldn't ruin his life, he has enough strength to return.  
  
It's then that I hear his voice.  
  
"Avada Kedavra."  
  
~*~  
  
Severus Snape stared down at the corpse that lay in the alley. Red hair fanned around a beautiful face. Long body hidden beneath a green and gold Slytherin cloak, wand still in the pocket. His friend from his days at Hogwarts, the one person he had trusted to follow him to the dark side. She looked peaceful, trusting . . . foolish.  
  
Still, as he walked away from her body, her words echoed in his mind.   
  
"You're all right, you're all right, you're all right."  
  
For a brief second, he hoped he had made her death quick.  
  
End 


End file.
